Tears in Heaven
by Literature Rogue
Summary: Izzie and George debate the role of surgeons in life and death. Not really any pairing, even if I might have intended it. Slightly pointless drabble.


**Doc Note: I know I should be updating AoaR about now, but I've been goin through some tough times for the past few weeks. Death inspired this fic, actually. My English teacher told me that I was a decent writer, and I should channel my grief into my writing. This might completely suck, since it's grief driven, but it's something to show that I'm not dead.**

**DISCLAIMER: Doc only owns her own grief.**

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He could hear her sneaking about outside his door, trying to be quiet but failing miserably. He was used to it by now, but still wouldn't just ask her to come in. It was just part of the routine to wait for her to come to him. Izzie poked her head around his door and peered inside, squinting to find him in the darkened room. "George?" She whispered. "You asleep?" 

He had been, "No," but he wouldn't tell her that. He rolled over on the bed, trying to make more room for her as she slipped inside and into bed next to him. Usually this only happened when there was something on Izzie's mind. George remained silent, hovering dangerously close to falling back to sleep as he buried his face in his pillow. Rolling onto his back he turned his head slightly, meeting her eyes. "You okay?"

Izzie fidgeted slightly, pulling at the covers until they were drawn up nearly to her chin. "You okay?" She echoed, leaving the air quite open for him to take it. "About your dad, I mean. I know it's been a few weeks and all but..." She turned onto her side and propped her head on her hand, "You okay?"

"I'm okay," George answered slowly. "Are you okay?" He repeated, knowing just by the look in her eyes, and by the fact that she was avoiding his gaze, that she wasn't. "Iz, what's on your mind?"

There was a slight pause in which Izzie stared at the ceiling, squinting up at it as if trying to see through it. "We're doctors, _surgeons_," she finally burst out, turning her gaze back to George and eyeing him carefully. "We should be able to save everyone, but we don't. And it always seems like..." Izzie paused, as if debating her words. They came out anyway, barely more then a whisper. "...only the good people die." She fell silent, and George was left to pick up the pieces of that puzzle she'd left and put it together. He moved onto his side, propping his chin on his fist.

"We're surgeons, Izzie, not gods, even with all of our God complexes, we're not God. We just try and play God, and we can't." George inhaled, watching Izzie as she moved her gaze to the ceiling once more. "We do everything we can for every patient that walks through the doors to that hospital. Why do we hump on every dead or dying patient that walks through those doors?"

Izzie sighed heavily. She turned her head slightly to look over at him. "Experience?" George shot her a glare. Izzie gave a small laugh. "So we can tell their family we did everything we could. So, are you really okay about...you know?"

George shrugged. "No. It's like, you keep expecting things to go back to normal, but they never will because there's this huge chunk of your life missing, y'know?" Izzie nodded softly.

"I do know." They fell into silence, but not the awkward uncomfortable silence that always seemed to pop up around strangers. This was Izzie and George. Their silence was calm and soothing. It was better for them to be silent together then alone; it just felt better. George snuggled back into his blankets and let his eyes close, only slightly surprised when she moved closer and he felt her body heat. They were back to back, so it wasn't at all awkward. Not that it was ever awkward with them. Sometimes he'd wake up with Izzie's limbs entangled in his own. It was just how it worked out. "'night, Iz."

"Goodnight, George." Silence.

And then, "George?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't ever die. I don't think I could handle it." Her voice was serious. George sat up, brows furrowing slightly, but Izzie was curled up, her back to him. He sank back down into his pillow, unaware that he'd moved closer to her in his tossing and turning. The only way he finally found himself comfortable was when Izzie yawned and stretched, coming to rest with her hand on top of his.

"Okay," George spoke softly into the darkness. "Okay."


End file.
